


On Your Belly You Shall Crawl

by PersianPenName



Series: The Sadventures of Crowley and Cain [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adam: Wait what if we did that to animals tho, Aziraphale is off doing something else, Cain is just such a wholesome child and I love it, Crowley Has All the Genders (Good Omens), Crowley Has Chronic Pain (Good Omens), Did I check if those plants are ready for harvest at anywhere near the same time? No I did not, Did I research era-appropriate crops and metalworking? Yes I did, Eve: Mother of Agriculture, Eve: get back here you little shit don't you just abandon a lamb on me ON TOP OF TWO CHILDREN, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Maybe "checking on" all the fruits still left in the garden, Maybe checking on the gate, also he's a little shit because child, angst bingo 2020, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersianPenName/pseuds/PersianPenName
Summary: Taking a swan-dive into boiling sulphur isn't good for your joints. Crawly has chronic pain, and rests on a bad pain day. Cain rests with her.
Relationships: Crowley & Eve (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) & Qayin | Cain | Qabil (Abrahamic Religions)
Series: The Sadventures of Crowley and Cain [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924822
Kudos: 20
Collections: GO Angst Bingo 2020





	On Your Belly You Shall Crawl

Crawly awoke with the knowledge that she’d overdone it again. She’d been helping Eve bring in the harvest, kneeling next to her in the dust digging up onions and walking the rows cutting grains with the little copper knife her clever friend had made, heating the pretty blue-green stones Adam had brought over the flaming sword, and letting the molten metal pool into an impression made against the damp sand. She and Eve had been laughing and talking, filling their baskets with peas and lentils, chickpeas and bitter vetch, while Cain ran around enthusiastically pulling up tall flax by the roots and swinging the bundles about, and little Abel slept swaddled against his mother’s back.

By evening they had laid the grains and pulses out to dry on racks on the roof, a thin netting enough to keep the birds away and the pervasive scent of a _very large snake_ more than enough for the smaller rodents. The flax was strewn behind the house to ret with the morning dew, a dinner of spiced lentils and flatbread had been cooked, and Adam had returned from the day’s hunting with, of all things, a _live lamb._ The little beast had panicked when it caught sight of Crawly, but Adam had tied a rope about its neck and secured it so it couldn’t escape. He had an idea, he’d said; instead of hunting for their meat, he wanted to try keeping animals near the home that were used to them and could be eaten at leisure, as Eve had done with the plants (Crawly thought it sounded a bit shit for the animals, being raised to trust and rely on a power greater than themselves, only to be betrayed without warning, but nobody asked her anyway). The lamb had bit Cain when he went to investigate it, and he spent the night curled up in Eve’s arms or Crawly’s, depending on whether or not Abel needed to nurse. He’d fallen asleep in a sprawl of limbs half on Crawly’s lap, so she’d shrugged and settled herself down for the night as well.

Now she was paying for it. Her limbs _ached_ , throbbing pulses of pain in her hips and her knees and all along her back. The morning was cold, the stone floor leaching away her body heat even through the furs, and the house was empty. She rolled onto her stomach, hissing and wincing, and let herself melt and shift into her other form. _Legs can’t hurt if you’ve got no legs!_ she told herself, ignoring the dull stab in bones she did not currently possess. Warmth. She needed warmth. 

She crawled on her belly to her usual place, a large, flat rock beside the river. It was some sort of dark stone, quick to catch heat and slow to lose it, in that sweet spot of mostly smooth but _just_ textured enough to feel amazing against her native scales and human skin alike. With a sigh, she breathed a plume of hellfire over the rock, then crawled up and over in a lengthy sprawl.

She basked through most of the morning, shifting position only grudgingly, until the pain in her long and looping back had quieted some and the pain in her missing limbs dominated. Grumpily, she changed again, cursing softly as she brought forth her wings. She was panting by the time they had opened fully, but the sun was high and hot now, baking into her bones through the her dark feathers.

She was just about to re-settle herself for another nap when Cain’s shadow fell across her face. His brows were wrinkled, and he was frowning with childish concern.

“Mama wants to know if you can watch me today. She’s mad because the sheep keeps crying and waking up Abel, and then he starts crying too. She said if daddy wants to keep the stupid animal he should be the one watching it, but he went hunting. Also it pooped in the house.”

She felt a wan smile break out on her face at his pronouncement, but shook her head. “Sorry, little mouse, I’m not doing so well today. I don’t think I could keep up with a clever bit of trouble like you. I’d have to swallow you up to keep you from running off, and you’re still not big enough for a whole meal.”

He giggled a little, as he usually did when she threatened to eat him, and sat down next to her head. “It’s better here than by the sheep anyway. _I_ can watch _you_ , since you’re not gonna go anywhere, and then everybody’s being watched!” She felt his stubby fingers pet her hair, and he began to hum the slow tune Eve used when trying to soothe her children into sleep. After a bit, when an errant wing twitch made her wince, Cain’s hands went from her hair to her feathers, slowly stroking them along the grain, shoulder to wrist, being gentler than she thought the child could be. He started murmuring a story to go with the tune, something about a clever mouse and a flying snake who explored the world and brought wonderful things back to the mouse’s family, like a flower that brimmed with honey but no bees, and birds with fire in their bellies that laid hardboiled eggs. Crawley let his voice wash over her and drifted off.

Some time later, she woke when a cloud went over the sun, and found Cain fast asleep beside her, warm and solid and content beneath her wing. 


End file.
